


The Dead Sea

by swirledinstars



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Annie's games, District 4 (Hunger Games), F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24225577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swirledinstars/pseuds/swirledinstars
Summary: “What’s happening, Finnick?” I whisper, not looking away from the window. It’s the first thing I’ve said since the hospital.He’s relieved, I can feel it. “I don’t know.” I look at him and I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. He squeezes my hand as he says, “What I do know is soon, we go home.”
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Kudos: 6





	The Dead Sea

_I track a droplet of rain with my finger as it rolls down the window, then another, and another. The rain sounds so loud against the pane as it falls in relentless sheets from the dark sky. It rains like this at home. My father got caught in a downpour on the boat once. He was soaking wet when he came home, and my mother made him hot tea while he sat by our small fireplace._

_“It’s peaceful in the rain,” he whispered to me._

_I remember his smile._

_I can’t remember the sound of rain on the sea._

I blink.

_My head rests against the cool glass. I feel it vibrate with each clap of thunder. A bright flash of lightning illuminates the city, outshining the glittering lights below me. People run for cover, searching for shelter from the storm._

_Another streak of lightening races across the sky._

I blink.

_When I was little, my mother and I would sit in our door and watch as the storms rolled in across the water. The rain and the wind and the booming thunder. Those things never frightened me the way they did the other children. At school, they would talk about being awoken during a storm and being too frightened to go back to sleep._

_To me, storms were almost magical._

_My mother told me that, long before Panem, people thought storms were the anger of the Gods._

_The Gods should have been more clever._

I blink.

“Annie.”

His voice is different when he talks to me. It’s his real voice, I think. One he doesn’t get to use often. _Does that make me special?_

His hands grip my shoulders as he whispers again, “Annie.” It’s almost desperate. Has Finnick Odair ever been truly desperate?

Far away, a voice tells me yes.

I blink.

_It’s midnight and I sit alone in the dark, my hands shake as I think about what tomorrow is going to bring. The interviews are over, tomorrow the Games really begin._

_“Why are you still awake?”_

_His voice surprises me. Finnick left after the interviews, he was called away by one of his Capitol lovers. When I turn to face him, I’m caught by how tired he looks, how broken._

_I’ve never seen this._

_“Couldn’t sleep.”_

_There’s nothing else to say. Tomorrow I’m going to be thrown into an arena with 23 other people. Odds are I will not survive._

_He doesn’t respond, just looks at me for a minute before walking to the kitchens and returning with a plate of fruit. He sits on the low table in front of my chair and offers me the plate. “Better take every chance for something sweet.”_

_He smiles. This one is different, it isn’t the one I saw tonight when the cameras turned to him during my interview, the one I’ve seen for years in footage of past Games, the smile he gives a line of lovers._

_My mentor, the darling of the Capitol. Finnick Odair._

_This smile is soft._

_“You’re different than I expected,” I say before I can stop myself. I feel my face redden immediately but he doesn’t seem phased._

_Finnick laughs as he asks, “And has that disappointed you?”_

_“No,” I say, and I mean it._

_I expected the version of Finnick that I see every year in the footage of the Games, the man that parades a different woman around the Capitol every time he’s seen in public --- wanted by many, kept by none. He has those lovers, flaunts his beauty and his conquests, but there’s something else under all that._

_“Good,” he says as he throws a handful of blueberries into the air and catches them in his mouth._

_I laugh and it’s the first time I’ve felt anything but fear since they called my name at the Reaping. I laugh and Finnick smiles again._

_But then I see the scratches. They run from his neck, trailing down across his chest. My laughter fades, my smile disappears, and he notices._

_Suddenly I’m with the closed off Capitol Finnick. Frowning, he stands. “You should get some sleep. You’ll need all your energy tomorrow.”_

I blink.

“I can’t reach her.” He’s sad, I can hear it. “She won’t even look at me.”

“Give her time,” another voice says softly to him. Warm. Kind. Mags. She puts a blanket around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head.

_After my mother died, my father would wrap a blanket around me and sit silent beside me. We’d watch the storms come in across the water, the emptiness we both felt more powerful than the thunder._

_I wonder if he sees this storm at home. I wonder if he’s sitting alone watching now._

I blink.

In the glass, I see Finnick’s reflection. He’s disheveled, he looks worn down and tired. He sits down beside me, his back to the rain and the city lights. For a moment, he just watches me, I can feel his green eyes on me, then he holds out his hand.

Slowly, I place my hand in his. “What’s happening, Finnick?” I whisper, not looking away from the window. It’s the first thing I’ve said since the hospital.

He’s relieved, I can feel it. “I don’t know.” I look at him and I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. He squeezes my hand as he says, “What I do know is soon, we go home.”


End file.
